


Secrets From Your Friends

by thesaddestboner



Series: In Which Sam Gagner Wakes Up a Woman [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Edmonton Oilers, Friendship, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, No Plot/Plotless, Not Beta Read, Quintuple Drabble, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 20:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1577894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Nuge ends up being the one who blows Sam’s cover completely by mistake, about a month after everything first goes down.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets From Your Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Still in the process of posting all the finished stuff I've been hoarding. Just a short, dumb little thing I've had sitting in my WIP folder mostly finished for a few months. Follows [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/950201) and [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/952914). 
> 
> Slightly modified title from "Keeping Secrets From Me (The Angry Song)," by Harry and the Potters.
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

Nuge ends up being the one who blows Sam’s cover completely by mistake, about a month after everything first goes down. 

Sam had taken to showering and dressing by himself, citing superstitions. His teammates let it go, passing it off as just Sam being weird until Nuge accidentally stumbles in on Sam while he’s in the middle of wrapping his chest with Ace bandages and he can’t just pass it off as a quirky personality trait anymore.

“What are you—oh.” 

Sam stares at him, fingers wrapped around an Ace bandage, wishing a hole would open up in the center of the lockerroom to swallow him. 

“Um,” Nuge says finally, after an interminably long stretch of awkward silence.

“It’s a long story,” Sam cuts in, cinching the bandages tightly and grabbing a t-shirt out of his locker. Maybe if he pretends nothing is out of the ordinary, Nuge will just let it go or something. 

“I can see that,” Nuge says, stealing a glance toward the entrance. He looks back at Sam. “Does anyone else know what happened? What even did happen?”

“I—I don’t know, exactly,” Sam says, tugging the shirt down over his head. “One day I just woke up like this.” He gestures to his chest.

“How long have you actually... You know.” Nuge is handling this news unexpectedly well, Sam thinks. He’s kind of impressed with the kid’s poise; then again, it’s Nuge. Out of all his teammates, he should probably be grateful it was Nuge and not Hallsy or Ebs that walked in on him.

“About a month,” Sam says to the floor.

Nuge sounds gobstopped. “Wow. And no one knows? But me?” 

“Uh, Tavares, John knows. And my parents, but that’s it,” Sam says.

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to,” Nuge promises, “but you probably should at least tell the team doctor.”

“I know. I know it’ll have to get out eventually,” Sam says, sighing. He rubs a hand through his damp hair. “I guess I’d rather let everyone find out from me instead of through the news or something.”

“Yeah, I get that. So...” Nuge inches closer and puts a hand out, as if he’s afraid he might hurt Sam now that he’s wearing a different body—Sam tries not to let that bother him—and touches Sam’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “Um, whatever you decide, I’ve got your back. And I'm sure everyone else will, too.”

“Thanks, Nugget,” Sam says.

Nuge rolls his eyes and pulls his hand back, smiling a little. “Sure thing, Sam.” He backs out of the lockerroom and lets the doors clang shut behind him.

Sam turns and studies himself in the mirror, examines the way his t-shirt drapes over his chest and hips. His face is still his face, though a little bit softer around the edges, like someone opened up a picture of him in Photoshop and went to town with the ‘blur’ tool. Still, it would take a very observant eye to notice any significant difference, and Sam’s teammates were nothing if not unobservant.

Sam slips his bare feet into his flip flops and trudges out of the lockerroom and down the hall to join his teammates.

He’ll tell them, eventually. On his own terms.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


End file.
